


Courtroom Palace

by MikaKagehjra



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Akechi has a palace AU, M/M, May add content warnings later depending on how this plays out, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 14:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10968834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikaKagehjra/pseuds/MikaKagehjra
Summary: AU where the Phantom Thieves find out Akechi has a Palace during their exploration of Sae's Casino. They decide to try to steal his heart before risking their leader's life on their other plan.Akira has mixed feelings about this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This starts off kind of abruptly, but this was originally just to mess with my friend, and then, well... It kind of became a bigger thing by accident. Oops?

The group was gathered at Leblanc, discussing a certain persistent thorn in their sides--Akechi Goro. They had a plan laid out, and they were slowly making their way through Sae's Palace, but all of them were uneasy. The plan was risky, and there were a lot of delicate moving parts. They couldn't speak much of it--most of the team didn't even know what it was, to minimize the chances of their adversaries finding out. Still, they were teenagers. Teenagers needed to let off a little steam sometimes.

“Man, I hate this! We’re supposed to up and disband just because Detective fucking Akechi Goro says so?”

“We can’t--“

 

**“Candidate found.”**

 

All activity in the room screeched to a halt.

“Was that..?” Haru’s voice was even softer than usual.

Morgana hopped onto the table, staring intently at Futaba’s phone. “According to the MetaNav, Akechi actually has a palace.”

“But how?” Ann spoke up first this time. “He said he could use a persona. You can’t have a persona _and_ a palace.”

“Perhaps he was simply lying,” Yusuke.

“I doubt Akechi is reckless or stupid enough to lie about that. We’d find out right away anyway,” Futaba said, picking up the phone.

“Maybe Morgana just doesn’t know what he’s talking about, and we just don’t have palaces ‘cause we’re awesome!” Ryuji, of course, sparked renewed conversation among the Thieves.

“Hey Morgana,” Akira spoke up, cutting through the murmurs. “Is it possible for someone to have a distorted _persona?_ ” That quieted the room again. Morgana’s tail flicked back and forth as he considered, ears pressed back against his head.

“I actually don’t know. A persona… By its nature, you wouldn’t think so, but now that you mention it, maybe a… _twisted_ enough person really could. I mean, you can use a whole bunch--”

“Yeah man, and we _know_ Akechi is twisted already, so it’s gotta be that!”

_‘He’s not twisted like that,’_ Akira wanted to argue, but he knew no one would believe him. He must have shifted or something though, because he could feel Morgana’s gaze on him.

“Whatever the reason, we can use this to our advantage.” Akira could almost kiss Makoto for moving the conversation along, away from reason to focus on criticizing Akechi. “If we steal his heart, maybe he’ll be willing to work with us for real instead of blackmailing us.” There were murmurs throughout the group, but Akira couldn’t catch any singular thread.

“Do we like… know if that’ll even work?” Ann asked, twirling her hair around her hand.

“We don’t know that it won’t,” Makoto said decisively. “And with the information we have… I think it’s our best shot.”

“What do you think, Leader?”

Akira considered his options. So Akechi had a palace… He wasn’t actually surprised to hear that. Nor was he surprised at his team’s reaction. Still, something didn’t quite feel right. Whatever his friends thought, this didn’t feel like a palace the way Kamoshida’s or Kaneshiro’s did. It felt more like…

Futaba’s palace.

Maybe it was his bias speaking, since he rather liked the detective despite everything (or was it _because_ of everything?). But Akira felt like they had to save Akechi, not defeat him. Or rather, those felt like the same thing. Maybe the other Phantom Thieves were the ones who were biased, since they had only ever seen him as an enemy. With those thoughts, it felt like not stealing his heart would be ignoring the suffering that he had always suspected was there but could never quite reach. But the risks involved… Well…

“Let’s do it.” _Let’s save Akechi_. Even if they didn’t know their leader’s thoughts, the other Phantom Thieves all nodded.

“So it’s decided, then.”

“We need to figure out his keywords,” Morgana added, directing their attention back to the phone.

“Man, and we can’t even ask him anything. Bastard would catch on as soon as we did and turn us in for sure.”

“We’ll just have to figure it out ourselves,” Ann declared. “It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

Silence reigned following Ann’s statement for a few minutes while they all considered, but it was Haru who spoke up next. “We… don’t really know anything about Akechi-kun, do we?” And no one disagreed. Of course they didn’t; Akira sometimes suspected he was the only one in the world who knew Akechi Goro… and they were supposed to be enemies. How cruel. They threw out dozens of keywords for the palace’s location while Akira stewed silently. Police station, jail, Tokyo, jail cell, court, even Leblanc. Nothing worked, and everyone was starting to become discouraged and tired. So Makoto suggested they regroup the next day instead of running themselves ragged. Akira waved at everyone as they left, until it was only Morgana and him in one of the booths.

“Makoto’s right,” Morgana said. He must have noticed Akira staring now at his own phone, since Futaba had taken hers. “We can’t burn ourselves out.”

“I just have one word I want to try.”

Morgana sat directly in front of him, the phone between them. “You couldn’t try it in front of the others?”

Akira didn’t answer, didn’t even look up. No, he couldn’t try this one in front of the others, but he wasn’t sure if he was afraid of being wrong or afraid of being right. His throat felt dry and closed up; he wasn’t sure if the word would find its way through. For a few long minutes, he only stared at the phone.

“Home.”

 

**“Candidate found.”**

 

Akira could only bury his head in his arms, feeling Morgana put his paw on his head in some attempt at comfort.

 

 

 

The next day, the other Thieves were understandably confused. They’d split up because they agreed they needed a break, and then Akira came to their meeting the next day with the location already found and with dark circles underneath his eyes as though he hadn’t slept at all. He tried to wave off their concerns, but Makoto in particular was adamant that although he was their leader, he should hold himself to the same standards he did the rest of them, or they would have stayed with him and continued to help. Akira just looked at her tiredly and took it, letting her say whatever she needed to say; she didn’t need to know that he was looking through her more than at her, as much as he always made an effort to listen to his friends.

Finally, Morgana had had enough. “Actually, he came up with the word right after you guys left.” Akira shot him a look, but he continued. “He only wanted to try one. It’s not like he stayed up all night trying to figure it out.”

Two people, Ann and Ryuji, spoke at once. “You got it on the first try?” and “What was it that you couldn’t say in front of us, man?”

Akira looked down at the table, tugging the cup of coffee he’d poured for himself earlier between his hands. “It’s just his apartment. It’s not that important.” But he’d still lost sleep over it, whether or not it would be important to his friends.

“Aw man, I bet it’s gonna be like Madarame’s, like how he thought that shack was hot shit just because it was his!” But Akira felt differently. He remembered Futaba’s palace again, as he had been all night, how her own room, what would normally be someone’s sanctuary, had been a place for her to die. He knew Akechi’s smile was made of plastic, so he wouldn’t be like that in his own home. Was it not freeing, to be able to take off the mask? Did he hate what he saw behind it every night? If only he’d been able to speak to him just a little more before he made his move to deceive them…

“Do you know where his apartment is, Akira?” All eyes turned to him, and he pretended he hadn’t just been lost in thought, shaking his head. “What about you, Makoto? Would your sister know for work?”

Makoto shook hers as well. “Sis has talked about him a few times, but always stuff like wondering why a kid his age is supposed to be her coworker, or how much of a know-it-all he is. I think she mentioned once that he was easygoing, but deceptively secretive…”

Ann pouted into her coffee. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t get why, but I wish this wasn’t so hard… How are we gonna find out where it is? Should we follow him?”

Thankfully, Makoto intervened. “That would be unwise. He’s a detective; if someone tries to follow him, they’ll probably be caught. And what would they say?”

“What about Morgana, then?” Yusuke suggested, but Makoto was already shaking her head.

“He’s seen Morgana here, and even if he’s less likely to notice and recognize a cat, he knows Morgana is no regular cat. That’d be even more suspicious, since Morgana is always here with Akira.”

“Well then, why doesn’t Akira just go?” Akira stared at Ann as she made the suggestion, and he wasn’t the only one. “Well, you’ve talked to him a lot, haven’t you? You just have to get invited over!”

Makoto looked pained as she took a sip of her coffee, but she nodded slowly. “It will be difficult, since he has plenty to hide from us, but I think that’s a reasonable plan. What do you think?” She was looking at Akira, and it took everything he had not to spit out an immediate refusal.

It felt like a… what did those Western movies call it? A honey trap. Even if it was distorted, Akechi’s home was supposed to belong to him. To enter it with ulterior motives felt disgusting, moreso than entering his palace from outside it, even if his palace was technically even more private. And yet… He had just decided yesterday that not stealing his heart would be ignoring his suffering, and they weren’t likely to figure out another way to find his apartment. It probably wouldn’t even be as difficult as the rest of the team expected; Akira was closer with Akechi than they thought, even if he was still being held at arm’s length. And it wasn’t like Akechi was going to have one of those giant boards from detective movies with pictures of the Phantom Thieves on it in his apartment to incriminate himself… probably.

“I’ll do it.” And he’d hate himself for it, most likely. But if it was to save Akechi, it was the right choice, even if it was a difficult one. The room itself seemed to sigh in relief, the other Thieves relaxing. Perhaps they had sensed his discomfort, even if none of them realized why this palace was so difficult for him.

“Okay, so we let Akira handle that part.” Makoto moved on quickly. “What about the other keyword? The distortion?” She turned to Akira again, and he regretted even silently being thankful that she saved him. “Rather than waiting for us to leave this time, do you have any ideas you’d like to share? You do know him best.”

_’Of course I do,’_ he thought, _’and he’s going to be humiliated that we’re doing this.’_ But he’d already chosen to do it anyway, so he couldn’t hesitate now. He had the decency to look scolded, rubbing the back of his neck as he opened the MetaNav on his phone with his other hand. He’d tried so hard not to think of it as he laid awake, but there was nothing to do about that. He had run dozens of scenarios through his head, each making less sense than the last, but there was one…

Someone had said it yesterday, he was pretty sure, as one of the locations they thought might be distorted. But he thought it might be the distortion itself instead. For awhile, he stared down at the phone; it wasn’t like yesterday, when the thought had just occurred to him and the fear of being right or wrong (it was right, he’d been afraid of being right and he was) had wrapped its fist around his throat. He’d been considering this for awhile now. Saying it was still hard, especially with everyone looking at him, but not like that.

“Courthouse.”

 

**“Candidate found.”**

 

“Wow, impressive! That’s our Leader, right on the first try again… Hey uh, are you okay?”

Akira nodded up at Ryuji numbly. He was fine; he had been considering that this was a possibility for hours, so it shouldn’t matter that he was right. Akechi thought of his apartment as a courthouse… and there was no one there for him to sentence but himself. He doubted the rest of the team saw that though, and sure enough, with his reassurance, however weak, Ryuji was talking again.

“Man, I can’t believe he thinks of his place as a courthouse! He’s gotta be some rotten judge, looking down on everyone from there.” _’You have no idea how wrong you are.’_ But the words to correct Ryuji’s assumption wouldn’t come. They’d see it soon, after all.

“I don’t know, Ryuji…” Haru spoke up, though. “It seems like his workplace would be what’s distorted if that were the case, since he’s a detective. This is all very strange.”

Ryuji was not deterred though, and he rolled his shoulder as he talked again. “Yeah yeah, it’s strange, but so’s that guy! I just can’t wait to meet his Shadow and beat the crap outta it.”

Morgana must have seen something on Akira’s face that indicated how suddenly nauseous he’d just become, because he stood up from where he was sitting on the table and flicked his tail at everyone. “There’s nothing else we can do today, though; we’re gonna have to keep up appearances with Akechi, so let’s all head home. We’ll leave it to Akira to finish his part before we talk about this again. We’re gonna have a lot to do as it is.”

No one questioned Morgana’s excuses - they might be sound reasoning, but they were excuses - and they all filed out. Akira found it a little bit more difficult to wave to each of them as they left today, worry turning over in his stomach at how this all would turn out. Morgana gave him a knowing look as he stood, but the cat didn’t say anything as Akira stumbled right back into bed, exhausted after the restless night he’d had.

He shouldn’t care this much about someone who was plotting to kill him in a few weeks, that was for sure.


	2. Chapter Two

Akira waited for Akechi to come to him to start in on the team’s plan. It would be suspicious if he went looking for him now of all times, so it wouldn’t make any sense for him to go that route. But he already knew how he was going to approach him, and the knowing made him jittery in the days he waited. Every time the bell above Leblanc’s door jingled, he looked to the door, hoping it would be him. He’d earned himself a bandaged left hand for that habit when he’d spilled hot coffee to get an immediate look at a new arrival who hadn’t been Akechi after all, but still the habit persisted. Morgana complained about getting twitchy just looking at him, and he could tell the rest of the team was anxious for him to get started, too. But even if they didn’t know just how guarded Akechi was, they understood his decision to wait.

Ryuji in particular had been furious about his hand. He didn’t seem to want to accept that it was Akira’s carelessness that had caused it, mumbling angrily about “that damn Akechi.” It wasn’t anything Akira didn’t expect, though. He tried to remember Ryuji was just being overprotective, not knowingly putting down someone Akira was... fond of.

God, he had to get it together. Akechi was trying to _kill_ him.

It took almost a week before Akechi appeared in Leblanc. His plastic smile was just a little cracked under his eyes, where dark circles peeked out from beneath a layer of makeup. Akira refrained from mentioning it; he was sure the other would only become flustered and hurry home to make himself more presentable, but even if he didn’t have a mission, Akira liked seeing him like this. It made him more real, reminded him of the boy behind the black mask he surely wore when he wasn’t fooling them in the Metaverse.

Akira just put his usual cup of coffee in front of him without needing to ask his order and poured himself another on the other side of the counter. Usually he wouldn’t, but today was a special case. Akechi seemed to notice too, even though he was more worn down than usual. He pillowed his chin on his hand, tilting his head and smiling at Akira. Akira tried to ignore the way his heart pounded when he realized that smile was looser than the plastic one, messier but more genuine.

This boy was plotting to stage his suicide. Where his heart had just begun to swell, it instead clenched painfully. He knew these smiles weren’t fake. He knew Akechi genuinely enjoyed his company. What kind of life was he leading, that he would kill him anyway?

“Is there something you needed, Kurusu-kun?” Akechi didn’t let him just watch him and drink his coffee; of course he wouldn’t. Still, Akira took a sip before he answered, buying himself some time to find the words he needed. He’d spent hours wondering what to say, but he still hadn’t come up with anything that sounded right. Even when he put down his cup and opened his mouth, he wasn’t sure what he was going to say.

“I was thinking about something, but I haven’t figured out how to ask you yet.” Fuck. He should’ve just asked outright; even that would sound less suspicious. Sure enough, Akechi was frowning and leaning back slightly, his eyebrows furrowed. Akira doubted he even knew he was doing it. “I mean--there’s something I wanted to ask you about, but I wanted to do it in private. And I could just ask you to stay late, but… I don’t want Morgana to hear, either. And he’d know something was up if I asked him to stay with Futaba, and… I’m rambling, aren’t I.”

That was pathetic. Worse than pathetic, he sounded completely out of character, and there was no way Akechi was going to buy any of it. Even if it wasn’t a lie. There was something he wanted to say, something that not even Morgana could overhear, but he wasn’t sure he could handle Akechi hearing it, either. He couldn’t stand to hear it himself, even. Akechi was staring at him, back to leaning on his hand, but still frowning slightly. He looked a little less afraid, and it was only in that observation that Akira realized Akechi _had_ looked afraid when he first spoke. Interesting. Akechi was trying to figure him out, and even though it would ruin everything, part of Akira wanted to let him

“We could go to my apartment when you’re done working.” What. At first, Akira was certain he’d heard that wrong, but when he looked at Akechi again, he was looking down into his cup, both hands wrapped around it and the slightest hint of color in his cheeks. “I’m afraid I’m not used to having visitors, but it seems like whatever you want to talk about is important. Are… you in trouble somehow?”

Akechi sounded so small when he asked his question that for a moment Akira could almost forget that he was planning his murder. He tried to be casual anyway, hiding his shaking hands by rubbing the back of his neck with one and planting the other on his hip.

“No, not at all! It’s nothing like that. As long as I won’t be intruding, your apartment is more than fine. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that sooner. Guess you really learn how to solve problems once you’re a detective, huh?”

Akechi smiled at him again, a hint of a smirk curled along the line of his lips. This was much more comfortable, much more familiar. “There’s no need to say things you don’t mean. Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you said when we first met even now.”

Akechi remembered what he’d said when they first met? Akira pushed down on the part of himself welling up that wanted to be flattered; he didn’t remember what he’d said at all. He tried to think… ah.

“They do more than the cops,” he said out loud, picking up his cup of coffee and taking another sip. When he pulled it away from his mouth, he was smirking, too. “Forgive me for being so arrogant, Detective, but I think I’ve proven our proficiency since then.”

Akechi laughed into his own coffee and Akira wanted to kiss him. He wished he could slap himself for the thought. “You’ve done far more than that. I almost wish I could allow you to continue.” Oh. Oh, that was new. “I truly believe you’re trying to do what’s right, and that you have the public’s best interest at heart. However…” His face hardened. “Though our system is imperfect--no, heavily flawed--it is in place for a reason. I cannot abandon it so easily.”

It was so easy to smile at Akechi, even when he was determined to dissolve the Phantom Thieves Akira believed so much in. Because truly, even though he believed that what they were doing could be called justice, he understood. If anyone besides him and his friends held the power to use the Metaverse, he would be frightened.

There _was_ someone else with the power to use the Metaverse. He was sitting right before him. And Akira was terrified of him.

“I understand. The only reason I’m okay with what we do is because I know it’s us, I think, so it’s not like I don’t get where you’re coming from.” At that, Akechi’s face went blank with surprise he almost certainly was trying not to show. “And what happened with Okumura… I wonder, if we were operating within some sort of system, if he wouldn’t have been saved somehow.” Akira pretended not to see the darkness that passed before Akechi’s eyes when he said that.

“Yes… I wonder, too.” Akechi’s voice was faint, and he hid his face in his cup of coffee when he finished talking. Half of Akira wanted to believe that was a sign of remorse, while the other scolded that he was only afraid of his crimes being revealed. Gloved hands trembled minutely around the coffee he held, and Akira longed for the more innocent version of him in his mind to be real.

Akira opened his mouth to speak up, but instead of words he heard the jingle of the door’s bell again, and one of Sojiro’s regulars walked in. He offered Akechi a smile instead, downing the rest of his coffee in one go. It burned his throat as he swallowed it. “If you have to leave, come back in…” He checked the clock. “Two hours. I’ll close up then and we can leave.” Unfortunately, he had to take care of every customer’s needs, not just his favorite one. Well, it wasn’t that he minded working at Leblanc, as long as it wasn’t keeping him from this one other thing he’d rather be doing. At least while he was working, he didn’t have time to worry about going to Akechi’s apartment that night.

That was a lie. He did worry. But there was nothing to do about it, just keep his hands as busy as he could, watching Akechi out of the corner of his eye as he pulled out what looked like schoolwork, but could just as easily be detective work. Akira thought himself a busy person, but even he couldn’t quite wrap his head around Akechi’s schedule.

But still, Akechi had time even to invite Akira to his apartment. When the other customers left, Akechi was already putting away his work, so Akira only tossed his apron under the counter and thanked his lucky stars that Morgana was already at Futaba’s place, despite his excuses earlier.

“I’m ready. Are you sure this isn’t a bother to you?” Akira was asking before he realized, even though he usually wouldn’t. Akechi had already offered, so it should be fine, and it was what he wanted, even, but… Well, he was uncharacteristically nervous.

Akechi waved him off, though. “It’s fine. You seem worried about it, so I’m sure it’s important.” It was important, but not in the way Akechi expected. “Shall we go? It’s not far, but we’ll want to get on the next train.”

Akira nodded, following him out the door and flipping the sign with a grin. “I can’t help but be honored, being invited to Detective Akechi Goro’s own home. I wish I had some way to commemorate the occasion.” And though his pretense may be a lie, those words were not.

He was glad he said them when Akechi’s cheeks turned pink, though he waved the words away. “Don’t tease; it’s only an apartment. It’s hardly anything special, and I haven’t even had a chance to tidy up with how busy I’ve been lately and the short notice.”

“Aw, but I thought I was special. Do you make a habit of inviting devilishly handsome young men to your apartment, then?”

“No, just you,” Akechi said easily, and Akira wondered if that was his honest opinion or part of his deception. His own words, _honey, I’m home,_ echoed in his ears, and he hoped this wasn’t an extension of their game. He remembered after a beat that he should have a clever retort ready, but his foolish heart was too busy thinking about how, lying or not, Akechi just called him devilishly handsome, and he forcibly reminded himself the boy in front of him was plotting his death.

“I’ll have to be careful I don’t steal your heart, then.” The teasing words were in the air before Akira could think better of them, and sure enough Akechi stiffened almost imperceptibly in response. Not only was it in poor taste considering Akechi’s already-stated views, but he really was planning on stealing his heart now. Akechi crossed his arms, no longer looking at Akira directly, and he realized he had to say something more. “I’m sorry; I thought that would be funny.” No, he hadn’t. He hadn’t thought at all. “But that reminds me that we didn’t finish our conversation earlier.”

Since it was past rush hour, they could both get seats on the train. Akira almost forgot to watch where they were going so he can bring the thieves back later. He was too focused on Akechi uncrossing his arms in a gesture that looked more calculated than like him actually relaxing and the way his hand framed his face when he raised it to touch his chin instead. He wondered if that was calculated, too.

“Didn’t we?” Oh, Akechi was talking. “I don’t remember precisely what we were talking about, admittedly.” Akira could practically hear the gears grinding in his brain; Akechi always makes him think. Was he being honest, was he lying? Why might he be lying? What did it mean if he was being honest, knowing what he does? He was almost certain Akechi hadn’t forgotten their conversation, and he wasn’t being arrogant in assuming he could command the other’s attention.

“How you feel about the Phantom Thieves, of course.”

Akechi smiled, and it was plastic. Akira pretended it didn’t make him sick. “Now, I know I’d remember if that was the topic.”

“We were getting there.” For some reason, Akira didn’t want to give this up. He felt like he almost uncovered something monumental earlier, before they were interrupted by that other customer. Like he was about to find something concrete about why he wanted to trust Akechi so much, even though he knew he couldn’t now.

 _I almost wish I could allow you to continue._ That was important. Akira knew it.

“It’s not like I’ll be offended, I knew you didn’t approve even before we became friends. I don’t think it’s a black and white issue, and I think you have good judgement. I’m curious to know how we came to disagree.”

Akechi recoiled. The look in his eyes was as though Akira had slapped him. “Friends..?” Oh. That made Akira’s heart ache. But before he could react, Akechi was shaking himself and moving on. “Anyway… it’s not as complicated as you make it sound. I simply cannot call the act of forcibly changing someone’s heart ‘justice.’ Stealing someone’s heart is dangerous, as you’ve told me, and it can be argued that rather than rehabilitate someone, it fundamentally changes who they are. You have good intentions, and so far you’ve chosen valuable targets and changed their hearts flawlessly. But you are not infallible, so I cannot say for certain that that trend will continue.”

“The police aren’t infallible either.”

Akechi chuckled, looking down at his lap. “Ah, you’re referring to your own case? A shame… Of course, I cannot call anything done by imperfect humans absolute justice. There will always be ways in which some despicable person could take advantage. But there is a greater amount of accountability in a collaborative system, versus in the MetaVerse where the only ones who can use it, as far as we know, are us.”

“And the person causing the mental shutdowns and rampage incidents.” Akira regretted it as soon as he said it, and sure enough, Akechi stiffened up again.

“If you only want to make jokes about my views, then this conversation is unnecessary.” His eyes were narrowed, his annoyance openly displayed in a way Akira had never seen. So this is what happened when the great detective got defensive… And any small hope Akira might have, however irrational, that Akechi wasn’t really the person behind all of that, was dashed in an instant.

“I wasn’t. I think you’re right... About accountability, I mean. But there are too many cases where people are allowed to look the other way and let people suffer. Parents, teachers, law enforcement… I can’t stand letting rotten adults get away with mistreating people just because they have power.” Akira kicked at the ground, not looking at Akechi as he spoke. “I don’t like it, as a concept. Changing people’s hearts. But I can’t think it’s wrong when it keeps those people from claiming more victims.”

Akechi snorted. “You really are perfect, aren’t you.”

“What?”

Wide eyes. “Nothing! It’s admirable, I suppose. Dirtying your own hands to protect the weak. It suits you.” At first, Akira thought he was lying. He’d just heard Akechi scoff at him, after all. But their eyes met, and he could see the same cracks in that mask that were there when Akechi genuinely smiled at him. He wasn’t smiling now, but his expression wasn’t plastic, either. For a moment he was too overwhelmed to do anything, whether to speak or breathe or look away, but Akechi moved his gaze first. “This is my stop. Let’s go.”

Akira wasn’t ready for their conversation to be over, but he followed him off the train. When they got to the half-empty platform, he reached out to grab Akechi’s wrist, not missing the way the other flinched from his grasp even though he was sure to keep his grip gentle. He let him take his hand back, but Akechi didn’t go far anyway, walking more slowly to allow conversation.

“What is it?”

“Just… if you think of what the Phantom Thieves do as dirtying their own hands to protect the weak… Why do you hate what they do so much? You’ve acknowledged flaws with both law enforcement and their methods, after all.”

Something in Akechi’s eyes darkened even as he took up his thoughtful pose of a hand on his chin. His plastic persona was loosely draped over him even as Akira could see the darker parts of him beneath it. “I feel rather strongly about the reasons we’ve already discussed.” A lie? Akira was pretty sure it wasn’t the whole truth, at the very least. “But I can recognize the usefulness of stealing hearts enough to go along with it just this once, to end it all.” Those words sounded heavier than Akira thought they should, but he couldn’t guess why.

A spark of anger welled up in him, and he smothered it before it could grow. Why couldn’t Akechi let them help him, instead of destroying them? But he wasn’t really angry so much as he was frustrated that they were helpless to do much more than keep themselves safe, especially when they knew--well, he knew--that Akechi was this cold because he was suffering.

“Still, there’s little point for debate on the subject when everything has already been decided.” Okay, so maybe he was a little frustrated at Akechi himself. He could sock him in the jaw and cancel it out with a few cups of coffee, right? He followed Akechi up the stairs of an apartment building, careful to memorize the address above the mailboxes, and tried not to think about how saying everything was already decided was an especially loaded statement coming from Akechi in particular.

He followed Akechi to a door at the end of the hallway on the third floor and let the other hold the door open for him, walking into an apartment that looked more like a model home than somewhere a teenager lived alone. The only sign that anyone lived here was a mug drying in the dishrack--plain white, nothing like the funny mugs Akira occasionally snuck onto Leblanc’s shelves. The floor was covered in pristine white carpet. Akira concluded that even here, Akechi’s mask did not come off. Not in the rooms he could see, at least.

“Can I get anything for you? Something to drink? I can’t make coffee as well as you can, but my skills are passable.”

“I’m fine, thank you.” The polite response for a polite question, but it was also truthful in Akira’s case. His mouth was dry as they both leaned down to take their shoes off next to the door, but he feared he would only ruin his semi-graceful image by spilling a drink down the front of his shirt. Any minute now, it was going to be time…

“Please, come sit.” Akechi had made his way to a couch without Akira noticing, and he was gesturing to the space next to him. Akira’s legs were numb as he joined the detective. The couch creaked beneath him; it wasn’t plastic, but it was part of the theatre for Akechi’s own plastic performance. “Now,” Akechi’s eyes were painfully intent on his. “What was it that you wanted to ask me?”

Or now. It was time now. And Akira gathered up every bit of his dauntless guts to look Akechi in the eye as he confessed the sentiments swirling in his heart.

“I know it’s unconventional to make you take me to your apartment to have a conversation like this… But I don’t really have a private space with Morgana around at Leblanc and the possibility of Sojiro stopping by at any time.” He reminded himself that the rambling was unnecessary. “I had a hunch this might be more than just the answer to a question, so don’t get mad and kick me out right away, okay?”

Akechi was the one to break eye contact, laughing uncomfortably and looking to the side with his hand beneath his chin. “Is it such a complicated question, then?”

And looking at him that way, no mask on even as he was seated on the perfect stage, the words escaped Akira’s mouth before he thought better of them. “I love you.”

Fuck… that wasn’t a question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had almost a whole chapter written with them having a longer conversation about how Akechi felt about the Phantom Thieves, but I accidentally revealed some things I wanted to save for later in the story. So I had to rewrite half of the chapter, which is a big part of why it was so delayed (besides just being a very busy person in general). I hope you liked it!
> 
> ALSO: At one point I referred to what the English localization calls the "psychotic breakdowns" as "rampage incidents." See the post below for my complete reasoning, but the short version is that it's a better translation and helps separate them from the mental shutdowns better than the localization does after the localization sometimes conflated the two.
> 
> https://p5spoilersblog.tumblr.com/post/160739427635/image-credit-hello-naughty-children-i-am-going-to


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